


Kissing Solves Everything

by ConsultingFangirl (DestinyWolfe)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Planet, Aliens, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mind Conversations, Mind Games, Mind Meld, One Shot, Shore Leave, Spock and Jim are soulmates and no one will ever convince me otherwise, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Kisses, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyWolfe/pseuds/ConsultingFangirl
Summary: While enjoying some quality one-on-one time during shore leave, Jim and Spock are apprehended by a group of potentially hostile humanoid aliens with telepathic abilities.(I wrote this based on a prompt list I posted on Tumblr. Basically just a silly, cute lil AOS space boyfriends one-shot fic. :))





	Kissing Solves Everything

****

**Kissing Solves Everything**

“Listen, if you kiss me right now, they’ll probably attack us.” Jim kept his voice low. Beside him, Spock stood perfectly still, one hand on Jim’s wrist. Through their bond, Jim felt his t’hy’la’s surprise woven through the lingering threads of mingled desire and contentment. 

All around them, silent, silver-skinned humanoids armed with what appeared to be super-heated plasma projectile weapons crouched, twenty fingers on twenty triggers. They’d appeared out of nowhere, emerging from the rocky landscape like spiders sensing a disturbance in their web. Thankfully, Jim thought, they’d arrived _before_ he and Spock had gotten any further along in what had been a particularly steamy mental make-out session. Jim still had his shirt on, which was both fortunate and unusual given the circumstances. The aliens had arrived just before things got physical. 

Jim wondered if Spock could read his disappointment through the bond.

“Jim,” said Spock, speaking in a soft, non-threatening tone. There was no telling what could set these aliens off; better safe than sorry. “I believe they are V’rachis, a rare and reclusive sub-species of silicon-based lifeforms known to inhabit five of the seven habitable planets in the Kepler-5 system.”

Jim glanced at Spock. He swallowed, struggling against the growing urge to reach for his phaser. Escalating the situation would get them nowhere. Nowhere, or dead. “Where’d they come from?” he asked, bemused. 

Spock’s grip on Jim’s wrist tightened almost imperceptibly. “I do not know, Jim. It is possible that, given the abundance of silicon present on this planet’s surface, the V’rachis are able to camouflage themselves by blending or merging visually or physically with their surroundings.” 

Jim nodded. He straightened up a little, lifting his head. He faced the silent, watchful aliens. “My name is Captain James Tiberius Kirk.” He kept his voice neutral, steady. “We’re with the United Federation of Planets; we’re here on shore leave. We mean you no harm.” There was a one-in-a-billion chance that even one among these creatures understood him. But with any luck, if they were an advanced enough species (and it seemed that they were; they had plasma weapons, after all) they may have invented translation devices similar to those used by Starfleet. 

The alien closest to Spock and Jim stood up. He kept his weapon trained on them, but the shift in his posture from tense and rigid to soft and relaxed was a definite improvement. Hopefully, he’d understood what Jim had said. Or had at least been able to read the essential message of non-hostility in his tone.

Jim felt a spike of anxiety flash through the bond. He glanced at Spock; Spock’s face was, as usual, entirely unreadable. Or it would be for anyone else; Jim, however, noticed the slight shift in the set of Spock’s mouth, and the growing apprehension in his eyes. 

_Spock._ He sent his thoughts through the bond, concentrating on the point where Spock’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist. _What’s up?_

Spock raised an eyebrow. Jim had the distinct feeling he was contemplating Jim’s use of colloquial speech and deciding whether to comment on it. _The Varachos seem to be using a limited form of telepathic communication_. Spock’s voice was inside Jim’s head, filling his mindscape with beautiful, cool, swirling colors. Jim hardly registered what Spock was saying—he was too busy reveling in the unique and thrilling sensation of their consciousnesses touching. But then the reality of what he’d just heard sunk in, and he frowned.

_Wait, they can read minds? You think you can communicate with them, then?_

Spock’s hand moved down Jim’s wrist. Their fingers twined, electric sparks racing down the glowing, invisible string of their bond. In his mind’s eyes, Jim watched the bright yellows and reds of his own chaotic consciousness mixing with the luminescent, breathtaking blues and greens of Spock’s logical one. _I believe they have already breached your mental barriers, Jim. That is why their commander has decided against attacking us. He is, as Terrans might say, ‘reading your mind.’_

Ah, Jim thought. Well, that explained Spock’s concern. It wasn’t that they were about to be assaulted by an unfriendly gang of aliens with plasma guns. It was that these silicon creatures had decided to intrude into Jim’s mind, a place that, as far as both Spock and Jim were concerned, was private property. Ever since they’d established the bond in the first place, nearly six months before, Spock had been attempting (mostly in vain) to teach Jim how to protect his mindscape from possible intruders. After all, Vulcans weren’t the only tele-empathetic race in the galaxy. And they were by far the politest, or so Spock had informed Jim.

The weird thing, Jim found himself thinking, was that he had had no idea these strange aliens were getting inside his head at all. He hadn’t felt it happen. He hadn’t noticed anything was off and wouldn’t have if Spock hadn’t been there to tell him so. 

Which begged the question: how many times had Jim encountered a species that, on the surface, seemed friendly and/or reserved, but had in reality been reading his thoughts, emotions, and intentions all along?

Spock shifted beside Jim; he felt another surge of mistrust and apprehension spike through their bond. _Jim,_ Spock said, still speaking inside Jim’s mind, _you must strengthen your barriers and clear your mind. Now that they know who we are, it is possible that the V’rachis will attempt to view personal and confidential information stored in your conscious and subconscious memory._

 _Well,_ Jim thought. _That’s not good._

_It is not. I am now attempting to extend my own protection through the bond,_ Spock continued. As he spoke, flashes of vivid color rose up around Jim’s thoughts, shielding them in a bubble of ocean blue. _I am not sure how long it will hold. I have never tried this with anyone else before._

 _Is that right? Well, I’m honored to be your first!_ Jim colored his thoughts with the mental equivalent of a smirk. Then he sobered, remembering the critical and delicate nature of their situation. _How long do we have?_

Before Spock could answer, the commander of the V’rachis lowered his weapon. He tilted his head, looking from Jim to Spock with narrowed eyes. His eyes were smooth and pupil-less, polished ovals of obsidian set in his rock-like silver skin. He showed his teeth, letting out a sound somewhere between a snarl and a sigh. Jim had the sinking feeling that this strange alien didn’t appreciate being kicked unceremonious out of the captain’s mind.

 _Spock, how long_? Jim repeated his question, trying not to let his growing apprehension seep into his thoughts.

 _Given the strength of the V’rachis’ mental capabilities, even my defenses will not hold for long._ Spock’s thoughts were colored with a faint, fluctuating white glow: a mark of intense concentration. Sparks of red and yellow twined with blue and silver-green. Their minds, already connected by the threads of the bond, twined tightly around each other like two strings in a thicker, stronger rope. _Jim, you will have to build up your own defenses, or the V’rachis will access your memories before I can stop them._

 _Spock, I can’t even tell when someone’s inside my head. How am I supposed to kick them out?_ Jim fought the urge to close his eyes. It was easier, he’d found, to concentrate on what was going on in his mind if he didn’t have any external visual stimuli to distract him. But given the situation (and the lurking possibility that breaking eye contact for a long period of time might be seen by this species as offensive) that just wasn’t an option. 

The V’rachis commander took a step toward them across the alien planet’s rocky terrain. He tilted his head, eyes shimmering as he sized them up. He stared at Jim for a long moment, then turned his unreadable eyes on Spock. Something close to a smile formed on his silver lips. He motioned to his nineteen companions with a quick sweep of his hand; they lowered their guns but remained crouched and ready.

And that’s when Jim realized: by shifting his defenses and concentration onto Jim, Spock was likely leaving his own mind vulnerable to attack. _Spock!_ He colored his thoughts with red: urgency. _You have to protect yourself. The V’rachis commander, he’ll attack you while your defenses are down!_

Spock didn’t reply. Frustrated, Jim pulled his hand out of Spock’s. He turned to face his first officer, face set in a stubbornly determined expression. “Spock,” he said, this time out loud, “I can’t let you—”

Before Jim could finish his declaration, Spock had stepped forward and taken both of his hands, their fingers intertwining. Instinctively, Jim pressed his body against Spock’s. And then they were kissing, both in the Vulcan and Terran sense of the word. For a long, white-hot moment, Jim’s mind went completely, entirely blank. He closed his eyes and let his emotions surge like tidal waves, crashing against the rugged shoreline of his consciousness. 

When the kiss ended, Jim was unsteady, drunk and high on the feelings racing through his blood like a forest on fire. Spock kept the contact between their hands. “Whoa.” Jim blinked a couple times, recalibrating his brain. “That was—”

“Effective,” Spock finished for him, and yeah, that was definitely not what Jim was going to say.

“I was gonna say _‘hot_ ’.” Jim grinned at his t’hy’la. 

“The V’rachis,” Spock said, returning his attention to the barren, rocky landscape, “are disgusted by physical displays of affection between beings of different species. In their culture, it is considered extremely unlucky to have contact with anyone who has engaged in such an inter-planetary relationship.”

Jim looked around. To his utter surprise, they were alone again. The V’rachis had disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared, fading back into the silicon hills. Confused and delighted, he turned to face Spock. “How the hell did you know that would work?” he asked, sending an accompanying jolt of _I’m impressed!_ through the bond. 

Spock smiled faintly. Just enough that Jim could see. “Telepathic connections work both ways, Jim. While the V’rachis were distracted by their inability to access your mind, I slipped past their mental defenses and accessed their leader’s.”

“God, I love you,” Jim said. “I really, really love you.” He grinned when Spock sent a sharp, vibrant jolt of joy through the bond in response.

“And I you, _Ashayam._ Now may I suggest we find a more suitable place to continue our previous engagement?”

Jim ran his thumb over the pulse point in Spock’s wrist, reveling in the steady, warm beat of his bondmate’s heart under his hand. He smirked at Spock’s proposal. “Hell yeah,” he agreed. “As long as it’s nowhere near Bones’ sick bay. He told me this morning that if he catches us making out in there while I’m supposed to be recovering _one more goddamn time, Jim, I swear to God_ …”

“I am quite aware of Dr. McCoy’s fondness for questioning your life choices, Jim.” There was a smile in Spock’s tone. “And for ‘empty’ threats. Which is why I have selected a much less hostile environment than his sick bay for us to enjoy the remainder of our shore leave together. There is an oasis two-point-three miles from here that is renowned for its tranquility and clandestine nature. I have heard crew members discuss it on several occasions.”

Jim’s smirk grew. “Sounds great, Spock. Lead the way.”

Together, they set out across the shiny silver surface of the alien planet, their hands touching and their minds entwined.


End file.
